I do this for theReal killas, and drug dealersAffiliated wit mobb niggas, and blood spillasPut a slug through you tough niggas1-800-thugs-r-usNo dragon tattoo on you, niggaNo love from usIn thugs we trustNiggas get rushed like hot whitend snuffUp yo noseI fuck up yo flowsLeave my competition ass frozeWe tag on they toesI'm as cold as pocinosEnemies get tied to a pole, blind fold then I unload.

Verse 2 *(tech n9ne of the regime)*

Thugged outMy choppers oblivionSpeakin the opposite of carribean in tropolisPoppin my z-z inTrue clocker from welfare recipiantsType of a crispyAn anamalisitc tupac-erMy race caristianJedi rhymeThe way I spits ahead of my timeGive me a billboard, an you bet I climbYou mutha fuckasI love rukusThug, makin you hug crutchesStayin away from you nothin but bum bustasThe empire is back an we bugged outPhats, keke, maxx, poppa l.q., gonzoe an my nigga yukmouthThese bitches beggin me to come to menageA triosBut muslims hear us say, "hum to allah"They fly, that's on the crew niggaYou cannot block the regime from makin knots, no matter what you doNiggaYa black an blue niggaUndercovers like malik yobaLyrically nina's usin a force like yoda!

Verse 3 *(madd maxx of the regime)*

Nigga this madd maxxYou cross the regime, you get yo life tookWe get it fuck the good bookTrue thug niggas that turned to real crooksRobbin the microphone, you get yo brain shookI told ya we takin over soldierA sober niggas rollin rover'sMe, ke, gonz, yuk, tech 9, an phats on yaAll ready wit the caulked gage, buggin out oklahomaFuck a coronaWe drinkin 8-balls until we fall outIf you got a problem wit the regime, your souls called outWe all out for warThese niggas don't want no moreI'm takin over like michael jordanAn I'm the first to scoreSo fuck you fake ass niggas who be plannin a plotI take yo block overWit the nitroglycerian rockThey got us fucked up.

Verse 4 *(phats bossalini of the regime)*

They got us fucked upI've been toughSince a young buckNothin to proveLots of pain plus some war cutsIt ain't shit, but a thang to meDangerouslyI play the man you claim to beNiggas strike backGun fight, we had to hype backThis is the phats see dream like a fat katThey wanna funk, we get dressed in blackCaulk the strapScreamin regime til they bust backIt's mobb-symboly, I die you remember meTatted wit dragons in a custom coffin bentlySimplyI'm down to blast so don't tempt meI'm hella drunk, an hella blown off the genitiFuck wit meSee these killas in mineBuildin this shrineTo feed these fuckin children of mineUhLook in my eyesAs I bleed the regime nigga(regime nigga, regime nigga)Havin a pile of money machine.

Verse 5 *(poppa l.q. of the regime)*

No I've never been to the penBut I did a county bidAn I ain't dumb enough to speak on the dirt I've didGuess somebody caught the killer before the police didFind him in the car leakin from dope over split wigsDeadly lyrics to spitMakin sure the killas feelin my shitExplicit lyrics an adult contentShot callas representin at all the major eventsAnd gang bangin got the streets juss way too tenseI learned to deal wit itI'm in the fields, windows tinted on my wheel wit the steel in itWe keep puffin an rollin real wit itThat jury linin, showcasin our diamonds to benifitsOf a long time grindin, enjoyin the fruits of our laborAnd rented suits from my tailorsSome young playas, strivin for greaterYou know it's all badLet's make it all goodPushin the cavvy to touch the navvi wit the leather an woodIt's regime nigga!

Verse 6 *(yukmouth)*

The hardest nigga from the "o"My flow is certified theme music for organized crimeNiggas that burglurised banks, and murdered guys for they piesReach for the skyTechniques like robert deniro in "heat"Karl kani'sNo disguise, in the middle of the streetBuckin at policeFuck policeGot a range rove jeepWit 12 open faced gold teethA rolex pieceCuban links, crops, an braceletsBut that ain't shit, to leave a nigga naked, duct taped wit they bitchIn the basementWhere the safe is?Big facesCops raided, but ended up gettin they fuckin squad car grenadedYou want blazed shit?I spit the nitroglycerianThat's smoother than a pair of new cinnamon timberlandsGet benjamin'sBut be no p diddyI'm from a city called weed citySee these regime niggas be wit meFuck christy juss remmyTrue thugs do drugs an come up wit hitsLike jimmi hendricksShock the world like snoop at no limitYuk signed to rap-a-lot, yeah niggaI ain't a playa, I juss mack-a-lotPack the gatTryin to snatch yo watch in the back of the lotKeep my shit for underground fragment rockJackpot j struck it rich hit the lotteryThe top comidityBlood on wallet be from robbin spreesRock phat farm, wit tats all over my armBullet wounds like a nigga fresh back from namYo nigga get yo mash on. (echos out)

*(talking)*

[how old were you, mr. washington when you hit the streets permanatly? ]

Maybe 10.

[how did you live? ]

I became a runner.

[a drug runner.]

That's right.

[could you give us a description of how you lived, the next fewYears.]

I kinda moved up. I lived where the money goes. then I got busted, 2 and1/2 in ? ?

[and when you got out.]

I got a piece of turf to myself. took it. one block at a time. nobodyStopped me.